


A Not-So-Blind Date

by MaraudingManaged



Series: The Not-So-Blind Date Universe [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blind Date, F/M, Fluff, birthday fic, total and utter Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-17 04:53:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21048626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaraudingManaged/pseuds/MaraudingManaged
Summary: What do Harry and Ron do when they are sick of hearing about Theo Nott from Hermione Granger, and Hermione Granger from Theo Nott?Shove them together in a pub on the least-subtle blind dateever, obviously.





	A Not-So-Blind Date

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Frumpologist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frumpologist/gifts).

> A present for the ever-wonderful, sweet, provider of ridiculous pairings: [ Frumpologist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frumpologist/)
> 
> Happy Birthday, my lovely. I hope it is as magical as you are.

> Hermione’s fingers graze the rim of the double firewhisky thoughtlessly as she wonders, not for the first time, how she ended up here: in a suitably stunning dress she’s spent days agonising over, a leather jacket she’s added because she doesn’t want to look too tarted up, and on her second drink in less than fifteen minutes, waiting on her blind date to show. 

_ If _ he shows at all - considering that it’s not particularly blind, she thinks with a delicate snort to herself as she sits at the bar. It’s a set-up by any other name, and bless Harry and Ron, they aren’t exactly the brightest wands in the shop sometimes. They’ve not been particularly sly about her potential paramour, after all - there are only two Slytherins in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and one of them is quite happily married with a baby on the way.

She wonders if they’ve set her up simply because they’re sick of her talking incessantly about the other one. She hadn’t thought she’d been that obvious, but as she feels a wave of nausea and fear sweep her, she wonders if she might have been lying to herself - just a little. 

“Hermione Granger,” the silky smooth tones of Theo Nott race up her spine and she turns on the bar-stool, a warm flush dancing up her cheeks as if he’s managed to capture her thoughts. “You look… devastatingly beautiful this evening. What on earth could a witch like you be doing in a dive like this?” 

His voice is teasing and low, and she feels her stomach start to tie itself in tighter knots as she gazes up at him and bites her lip. He’s still as tall as she remembers, from her early days in the MLE - before she decided that Auror work really wasn’t for her and moved over to the Department of Mysteries. His cheekbones are just as sharp, his lips as full; and his dark, curling hair still falls stylishly forward into olive eyes when he dips his chin in recognition.

“That’s a line if ever I’ve heard one, Nott,” she greets him, marvelling at the fact that her voice is as firm and as confident as it sounds - flirty, even - considering that she feels like she’s about to have kittens. “It’s been… quite a while.” 

“That it has. I see you’ve already started without me,” he nods to her drink, and she laughs despite her nerves as he sits beside her, pulling up one of the old stools in the Leaky with a smile on his pretty mouth. Gods, she doesn’t know how she’s not burned up on the spot - he’s as devastatingly good-looking up-close as he has always been, though she’s been pining at a distance for far too long of late. And still as sodding charming.

“Dutch courage, I suppose.” She waves Hannah Abbott down and orders another firewhisky for them both - because Merlin knows she needs it, and at least it gives her something to do with her hands, rather than grab the lapels of Theo’s delightfully tailored, beautifully woven coat and plant a graceless kiss on his too-handsome-for-his-own-good face. 

Because she has fancied Theodore Nott for _ years_. Since her 8th Year at Hogwarts when she was paired with him in Ancient Runes, and found him to be a surprisingly competent partner… and a distraction, she’d realised when she saw him roll his sleeves up and knuckle down for a game of pick-up Quidditch one early autumn morning.

She hated the game, absolutely - but fuck-it-all if she didn’t have a thing for Quidditch players. 

“Dutch courage? Over this idiot?” He asks lightly, gesturing to himself, but his eyes are focussed on her entirely, and Hermione tries hard not to choke on the sip of whisky she’s just taken. 

“Oh, shut up,” she grumbles and he laughs again - and Hermione realises how much she’s missed that sound working what feels like a whole world away. “You’re not an idiot. I’m surprised you let yourself be conned into Harry and Ron’s game at all.”

“Yes, well, Potter wasn’t particularly subtle,” he points out, and Hermione nods without thinking. 

“That he wasn’t - if it was anything like I got, anyway. ‘A friend from work, who happens to have been in our year and was in Slytherin’. I mean, honestly! They could be a little less obvious,” she huffs and scatters a few coins on the bartop for Hannah to pick up, which she does with a grin and a wink in Hermione’s direction whilst Theo fishes about in his coat pocket for his own galleons. “Oh, I’ve got it, don’t worry. Anyway, it was you or Malfoy, and pardon me if I don’t think he’s about to turf out his adorable pregnant wife for _ me_.” 

Theo shrugs as he takes the firewhisky, and Hermione feels a glow form as he raises his glass in thanks. “Eh, no loss. Malfoy’s a muppet and he’s so besotted with ‘Tori he can’t see the opportunity he’s passed up,” he states grandly, and Hermione rolls her eyes which he catches with a tut. “And considering I’m pretty sure you’re the only Unspeakable Potter and Weasley know, it wasn’t particularly like you were shrouded in mystery. But yet here you are.” 

Hermione feels butterflies flutter in her stomach, and she blushes. She has about a million witty retorts in her head, but she suddenly finds that every single clever thing she could say has stuck in her throat. 

“I… I wouldn’t… I mean, I… You must know…” She trips over her words and she hates herself for it because this should be _ easy _ . It’s Theo, and she worked with him for two years solid. She has _ never _ struggled to speak to him before but here in the Leaky, with this being Very Clearly A Date, all her intelligence seems to have fallen out of her ears. 

Hermione tries to meet his eyes, but she caves under their intensity and turns back to her drink. “Yet here _ you _ are,” she says instead, knowing that it is absolutely pathetic and she is mortified that the words have come out of her mouth at all. 

“Me? Of _ course _ I’d be here. Are you daft, woman? Granger… _ Hermione_. Look at me.” His hand is on her chin, and he turns her face away from her glass to tilt upwards and meet his astounded eyes. His brows are furrowed, creating a little line between them that she desperately wants to reach up and smooth away, but she hesitates as he watches her. His eyes dart back and forth, examining her face, and he sighs with a roll of his eyes. “Really? Fucking _ really? _ I spent all of the year at bloody Hogwarts - I even picked up a fucking _ broom _! Two years trying to… before you moved over to... oh, for fuck’s sake.” 

And he’s off his own stool and he’s stood between her legs, grasping her face in his palms. Hermione thinks she hears Hannah’s giggle, but that doesn’t matter, because he’s _ kissing her, _and her eyes flutter shut at the softness and heat of his mouth against hers. He runs a hand down the side of her throat before burying it in her curls, tugging ever so slightly until the knot she’s restrained them in falls free, and Hermione gasps. Theo takes it as an invitation to deepen the kiss as she feels him smile, and her brain is whirring at a million miles a minute as she tries to process everything. 

“Merlin’s sake, Hermione, stop thinking for just a second.” It sounds like it should be admonishing, but when she slowly opens her eyes he’s pressing his forehead against hers and he’s smiling so widely, his eyes shining in the dim light of the pub, she can’t help but feel her own grin form in return. “I have fancied you for _ years_, Granger. Potter _ begged _ to set us up so I’d shut up about you. So please, for the love of Salazar and all the Founders, _ please _ let me shut up and prove myself right.” 

Her hands flit about, because she has no idea where she wants to to touch first now that she has permission to. But soon her giddiness and boldness takes over and she does precisely what she’s imagined doing since the minute he walked into the Leaky. 

She grabs his coat and pulls him closer, fists digging into the material to gain purchase. Her tongue darts out to trace along his lower lip and he _ moans _ so indecently it makes her toes curl - because they’re in public and he’s kissing her like she’s wanted him to for years - like _ she’s _ wanted to kiss _ him_. When she draws back, Theo’s eyes are a little unfocussed, his cheeks are pink and his lips are swollen, and it’s just about the sexiest thing Hermione’s ever seen. Heat pools in her stomach and she leans close again so that their cheeks brush together. 

“I think we should go somewhere quieter to talk,” Hermione whispers in his ear. She bites her lip, fighting another ridiculous smile so wide it makes her cheeks hurt, and hears him groan as he lifts her from the stool, his wand in hand to Apparate them away. 

“You’re going to be the death of me, woman; did you know that?” 


End file.
